


hold my hand

by gigglyjaehyun



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: 5 Seconds of Summer - Freeform, 5SOS - Freeform, Banter, M/M, lots of banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 12:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2024655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigglyjaehyun/pseuds/gigglyjaehyun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael's about to get his eyebrow pierced and refuses to admit that he might be scared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hold my hand

**Author's Note:**

> hello yes I haven't written in a long time and I feel absolutely awful about it, i'm so sorry. but here's this!!  
> feel free to talk to me on tumblr (jpglashton) i'm actually quite lonely  
> also shout-out to Draven for giving me the idea for this prompt at 1 in the morning <3

"Do eyebrow piercings hurt?" Michael asks for the fifteenth time. It's the only question Michael's asked ever since they stepped foot into the shop, and by this point, Luke's tempted to walk out.

"I hope they do," Luke retorts, and Michael weakly lifts his foot up to kick Luke in the shin from where he's sitting next to him. The leather chairs are comfy — a bit too comfy, in fact. As if they're the calm before the storm, the luxury before his death. Michael's definitely going insane.

"That's not funny," Michael says, his tone injected with sincerity. He threads his fingers through his freshly-dyed lilac hair nervously. "This is a life-or-death situation here." 

Luke briefly looks up from his phone to raise an eyebrow at Michael. "I don't think you can die from this," he states.

"There's a first for everything," Michael replies. "Knowing my luck, I'll be the first. You guys won't replace me if I die, will you? Not that you _can_ replace me, anyway. I'm too good to be replaced."

Luke hums thoughtfully, scrolling on his phone again. "You're right, we won't need to replace you," he says. "Not like you're that important anyway." 

Michael scowls. "That's not what you said last night."

Luke rolls his eyes, biting down on his lip to force back a smile. No matter how hard Luke tries to appear offended by Michael, he never manages to completely pull it off. "How many times are you going to use that argument?" Luke asks.

"Until you become old enough to realize that being a dick to your boyfriend is frowned upon in public."

"I'm the same age as you." Luke frowns, though Michael doesn't say anything.

His eyes scan the walls plastered with pictures of tattoo designs. Maybe if he gets a new tattoo as well then he can come off as  _super_ punk. A two-for-one trip.

It's dark outside, the faded lights from the streetlamps glowing weakly. It's been a busy, fast-paced day filled with album promo and interviews and, somehow, Michael still managed to fit in an appointment. Though Luke thinks of himself as being a fairly supportive boyfriend, he didn't come along by choice. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to head back to their hotel and fall asleep for a thousand years, but when Michael offered him a blowjob as bribery, there was no way he could say no. 

The two of them sit in silence for a while, Michael's heart still thumping apprehensively in his chest.

"I thought you weren't scared," Luke finally says, noticing the sudden calmness taking over Michael. "Never seen you this quiet before. I kind of like it. Maybe you should shut up more often." 

Michael grumbles, leaning over to punch Luke (weakly) in the arm. "I'm not scared," Michael huffs. "I don't get scared. What does 'scared' even mean? I'm not familiar with that word."

"Maybe you shouldn't have dropped out of school, then." Luke stifles a laugh at his own joke. "Sounds like you're about to chicken out over two little dots on your eyebrow," he smirks.

"Watch it, Hemmings." He reaches over quickly and swipes Luke's phone out of his hands, though Luke is barely even fazed by it. Michael's stolen his phone plenty of times, and by now it's only become a regular occurrence.

"Do you want to go to Claire's and have them do it instead?" Luke suggests. Michael can't tell if he's joking or not. "No one has to know. Except for me, of course."

"I'm not — Luke, Claire's is for ten-year-old girls."

"But you got your ears pierced at Claire's," he points out. 

"Okay — that was a one-time thing. We've discussed this. I'm a big boy now." Luke scoffs, and Michael holds Luke's phone up in the air pointedly, as if he's clutching Luke's life in his hands (essentially, he is). "You see this phone? I could do anything with it right now —"

And perhaps Michael spoke too quickly when suddenly Luke reaches up and pulls the phone out of Michael's grip. It was a short-lived plan.

"No late-night cuddles for you," Michael decides. He lets out a grunt of disapproval and sternly crosses one leg over the other, deciding that he's going to ignore Luke for a while.

When they're called back to another room, Michael walks over with ease, not even checking to make sure Luke is following. He plans to get this piercing done with confidence, and he definitely doesn't need Luke to be there for moral support. He's a one-man team. He's got this.

He spends a few minutes running encouraging thoughts through his mind, reminding himself that he has nothing to be afraid of. The room smells like disinfectant and he can see Luke sitting in a plastic chair out of the corner of his eye. Luke looks cruelly amused and Michael hates him.

The piercer reassures Michael several times that it'll be quick and painless, probably noticing how Michael's almost completely silent. When the piercer leaves the room for a moment, promising he'll be back quickly, Luke takes the opportunity to speak up.

"Do you need me to hold your hand?" he asks teasingly, scooting his chair closer to where Michael's seated. Michael sticks his tongue out at him and crosses his arms, though Luke still remains by his side.

"Exactly how weak do you think I am?" Michael says. He's 18, goddamn it. Why would he need someone to  _hold his hand_?

The piercer returns a few minutes later with a needle in hand, pinpointing the exact second when Michael's mind goes haywire. Though Michael refused to even  _consider_ holding Luke's hand, he's suddenly very tempted. The needle looks dangerously sharp and he feels threatened by it. 

The piercing is quick, thankfully. It happens so fast that Michael barely even notices it's done until Luke's words snap him out of it.

"Are you okay, Mikey?" Luke asks, leaning closer and lowering his voice.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" Michael says pompously, sitting still while the piercer fixes the jewelry for him.

"Well, I was kind of kidding about the hand-holding thing," Luke says. Michael's eyes drift down and widen when he realizes that he indeed caved in on his own promise, his hand gripping Luke's as if his life depends on it. He lets go abruptly, clearing his throat quietly and ignoring the laugh that escapes from Luke. 

Michael's about to insult Luke out of embarrassment, but is cut off when the piercer hands him a pamphlet titled: "All about your new piercing!". He goes on for a few minutes about what jewelry he should and shouldn't wear and what to do if he experiences discomfort and blah blah blah. Michael sits patiently, his body twisted away from Luke. He knows Luke's going to give him a hard time for this, and as long as he's busy learning how to care for his new piercing, Luke can't say anything.

But he can feel the tension in the air, he knows that as soon as they leave the shop, Luke'll start talking. 

And he's right. 

As soon as the door is closed behind them and they begin the walk back to their hotel, he naturally takes a few strides in front of Luke. Despite it being late out, the air is warm and humid, giving Michael another reason to sweat nervously.

"You were holding my hand!" Luke says with a fucking smile on his face, jogging a little to catch up.

"I hate to break it to you, but we've gone a lot further than hand-holding," Michael deadpans. 

"You told me you weren't scared!" Luke crows. Michael doesn't answer and instead speed-walks further ahead, Luke clumsily trying to keep up with his pace. "What are you doing?" Luke asks when he's next to Michael again.

"It's more a question of what am I  _not_ doing," Michael says. He turns to Luke, making sure their eyes meet. "The answer is you," he clarifies. "I won't be doing you." Luke's jaw drops a little, filling Michael with a sense of fulfillment.

"What does that mean?" Luke whines. Michael feels a little bit guilty — a  _little bit_. "What — what about that blowjob?" Luke asks. "You promised." Michael hates how sad Luke sounds over a fucking  _blowjob_. There are more important things at stake here, like his dignity.

"I'll cut you a deal," Michael says. "You don't say a word about me holding your hand and you might still get it."

"But Calum and Ashton," Luke protests. "How can I not tell them?"

Michael shrugs nonchalantly and sings the word "blowjob" which, admittedly, isn't the best word to be blurting out at ten o'clock at night in the middle of Los Angeles. 

"Fine," Luke says after a moment. "I won't say anything."

Michael purses his lips. "How am I supposed to trust you?" he asks. 

"Seal it with a kiss," Luke suggests, suddenly grabbing Michael by the shoulders and pressing their lips together. It catches Michael off-guard and he barely manages to keep his balance. The kiss is over almost as quickly as it started, unfortunately, and Michael's mouth makes an 'O' in shock. Luke stares at him for a moment, beaming proudly, the orange light from the streetlamps making his hair a golden color (that Michael would really like to get his fingers tangled in, to be honest).

"Wow," Michael breathes. "That was…"

"Daring? Hot? Sexy?" Luke tries. He lets go of Michael and resumes walking. "Save it for the bedroom."


End file.
